


Frog on a Lilypad

by foxy_mulder



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate universe- no fears, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Martin Blackwood, Season/Series 01, Self-Esteem Issues, i wrote him having a stuffed animal bc i have a stuffed animal and i am the validest person on earth, this is a 'jon gains friends and work-life balance' season 1 fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxy_mulder/pseuds/foxy_mulder
Summary: Jon isn't sure how it happened, but he and Sasha and Tim and Martin now hang out outside work. Regularly.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, may end up as s1 archives poly
Comments: 33
Kudos: 184





	1. Chapter 1

Jon finishes the statement and rolls his eyes. Stupid. A ghost spider? Really? 

Still, certain aspects had hit rather... close to home, and he finds that his heart is racing and his palms shake as he goes to turn off the recorder. A break is in order after that one, only a short break, but he needs a moment. 

His bag rustles as he rummages around until his hands brush soft artificial fur. He takes Frog from the bag to lay on his chest, and pets her. Yes, it’s silly for a stuffed frog to be furry, because they’re amphibians, but she’s terribly soft and that makes up for the herpetological inaccuracy. A soft creak sounds from the other side of the room and a gentle voice sounds. 

"Oh, who have you got there?" 

He freezes. He had locked the door to his office, hadn't he, but earlier he got up to get a file and he must've left it open a crack, and now… 

Martin hovers in the doorway, smiling softly and looking right at his hands, still holding Frog. The mortification hits him all at once. 

"Just, ah, a stuffed frog," he says. 

"It’s adorable. Does it have a name?" 

"Sorry, did you need something or did you come in here to bother me about my stuffed animal?" He snaps, cheeks warm with embarrassment. Martin's cheeks are flushed too, but that’s not unusual. He's easily flustered, and must get hot in those jumpers he dons every day. Wonderful, he said _my_ stuffed animal, now there can be no question that it’s his, that he’s a grown man who brings a stuffed frog to work. Whatever respect his assistants might have had for him is going to evaporate the moment Martin tells them this. 

"I brought tea." 

"Ah." _Of course he brought tea, he brings tea every day, get it together Jon._ “Thank you.” 

"I'll leave you to it." 

"Wait. Martin," he says frantically. "Don’t tell Tim or Sasha about her." 

"’Her?’" 

"The stuffed frog." They would laugh at him. Sasha and Tim can be mean when they want to be, and sometimes Jon's feelings are hurt even when they aren’t trying to be cruel. 

"Of course I won’t, Jon," he sighs. “But you know, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, plenty of people have stuffed animals." 

“Thanks.” He feels a bit foolish for being so defensive, now. Leave it to Martin to be ridiculously kind when he’s done nothing to deserve it. 

Martin nods and goes to leave. 

“And... Martin,” he calls. "Her name is Frog. Because she’s a frog. Not the cleverest name, but...” 

“No, it really suits her!” Martin squeaks. 

“You think so?” he says softly, more vulnerable than he intended. He clears his throat. 

Martin nods, purses his lips with an odd squeaking noise, and walks backwards into the door. He then turns and fumbles for the doorknob, apologizing as he slams the door behind him. 

“Right.” He sits heavily in his chair and glances at Frog. “Back to work.” 

-

Martin makes it all the way to his desk before he has to sit down from all the emotions he’s having. He can only take so much. Jon goes around doing cute things regularly, like struggling to reach high cabinets and tucking his hair back behind his ear only for it to fall forward again immediately, or scrunching his face in concentration when he’s reading. But this takes the cake. He’s got a stuffed animal! And he _named_ it! His heart could explode, thinking about Jon cuddling his frog, which leads into thinking about cuddling Jon, and- 

“What’s got you smiling like that? Did Jon tell you your work ‘isn’t as bad as expected’ again?” 

He looks up and there is Tim. He must not have noticed his entrance, too caught up in his thoughts. 

“Tim! He could hear you,” he hisses, glancing at Jon's closed office door. “And it’s not about Jon at all.” 

“You’re a terrible liar,” he snorts. “C’mon, tell your pal Tim the gossip.” 

“Fine, you win, it’s Jon. He was being friendly today.” 

“A good mood? From Jon? We should invite him to come out with us tonight, then.” 

Martin chuckles. “You know how that went last time.” 

“I hate to say it, because he really was an ass about it, but… I kind of get why he was so cranky last time? He had a pile of work this high,” Tim motions with his hands, indicating the size of the stack, “because Elias is the devil incarnate. I don’t think he even went home that night. The man needs a bit of work-life balance. If he hangs out with us just once, he’ll realize how much fun it is to not be at work!” 

”He sees us every day, if he wanted to hang out he would have already.” Martin is well aware that Jon wouldn’t want to hang out with him after work. It’s a miracle that people as cool as Tim and Sasha want to, really. 

”No, sober, day job Jon sees us every day. Sasha went to some work party thing with him when he first started here, and he got wasted and hugged _everyone_ and I want that for _us,_ Marto!” Tim stops wildly gesticulating, and sighs. The three of them have talked about this before, and Martin knows what Tims thinking. He and Jon used to be closer, back in research, and Jon’s gotten colder, more stressed out, ever since the promotion. 

Martin can’t argue with that. “Suppose it can’t hurt to ask.”


	2. Chapter 2

“And the, ah, the really interesting part is that-” Jon pauses his long, slurring speech about etymology, eyes darting over Martins shoulder to look out the window of the bar. “Um… saw a dog outside. Sorry, I forgot what we were talking about… Anyone ev'r told you your hair looks _so_ soft?" 

Martin nods encouragingly, staring into Jons eyes like he wants to melt, and Jon has his hands braced on Martins forearms, and it’s such a moment that Tim reaches a hand toward his phone. Sasha nudges him, shakes her head slightly and glances down to where she is already discreetly recording with her own phone, like the genius she is. 

Tim had been thrilled when Jon agreed to come out to drink with them, but he hadn't thought it would go _this_ well. He'd expected him to have a couple drinks and pretend he had somewhere else to be, not to… talk for an hour and pet Martin like an oversized cat. Not that Tim's complaining. And Martin _definitely_ isn't complaining. 

_Oh my god,_ Tim mouths at Sasha. 

_I know, right,_ she mouths back. 

Jon leans up to press his cheek to Martins, and Martin giggles contentedly, not a hint of self consciousness to be seen. Tim and Sasha exchange a glance. 

Tim leans in to whisper. “They are both wasted.” 

“Affirmative, cap’n. We can’t let them drink any more." 

"I guess we’d better finish their drinks for them, it’s what good friends would do.” 

“We are _such_ good friends.” 

They slide the pairs half finished drinks across the table and chug them. Martin and Jon don’t even notice, Jon staring at the cieling lights and blinking while he perches practically in Martin's lap. 

Jon grabs the fat of Martins cheeks and squishes it in his hands, turning to look into his eyes. Tim stiffens, ready to lay into Jon if he says anything rude, because Martin can be quite insecure about his body and Jon may have been better about being friendly recently, but it would be just like him to be a total dick without even thinking about it. 

“You should get a promotion for being so soft,” Jon says, eyes glazed over like a trance as he continues patting Martins cheeks. 

“Promotion? Yesterday you said I should be fired for slacking,” teases Martin. 

Jons face falls and he stutters, “I didn’t mean- that is, I-” 

“Hey, I’m only kidding-” 

“I didn' mean it," he says imploringly. "I have to make everybody work hard, and be a good archivist because… Dont want you to find out." 

"Find out… what?" Sasha asks. 

''I'm unqualified." They exchange glances. 

“Youre unqualified?” Martin giggles nervously. Jon giggles too, and nods. 

“I’m not actually as old as I said,” he whispers loud enough that the entire bar can probably hear. His eyes widen. “Oh. I wasn’t supposed to say that." 

Sasha lets out the fakest yawn Tim has ever heard. "Wow, I sure am exhausted," she says, giving Tim a look. 

"Me too, guess it's time to head home!" Tim stands, removing Jon from Martin's lap and helping him stand on wobbly legs. "I'll call you guys cabs, huh?" 

Martin shakes his head. "No need, I can-" 

"-let your friends do nice things for you because we love you? That's what I was thinking too," says Tim, leaning over to plant a kiss on Martin's cheek. "Let's go, come on, outside. Some fresh air will help." 

They make it out the door before Jon throws up. Martin, in typical Martin fashion, tries to stay and fawn over him, but Sasha ushers him into a cab, leaving Tim to sit with Jon, who keeps apologizing. 

"-again, I don't usually drink so I didn't know I would react like this." 

"Jon. It's okay." 

"No it's not, I keep messing things up between us, I want you to respect me but I don't know how to do any of this. I'm a terrible boss. I don't know how to do anything." 

“So you thought the solution was to act like an ass?” Tim snaps. "That’s not how you make people respect you.” 

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, do better.” 

“How do I fix it?” 

"I don't know Jon, just… be nice. Come out with us next week. Talk to us instead of hiding in your office, take a damn break once in awhile. Be _nice to Martin._ ” 

Jon nods earnestly. A cab pulls up to the curb, and Tim guides him to the door. 

“And boss? Drink some water, alright? You’re gonna have a hell of a headache tomorrow.” 

Tim looks him up and down. His mussed hair, wide brown eyes blinking slowly as he sways. 

Yeah, he’s not gonna remember any of this tomorrow. But it felt good to say it. 

\- 

Jon wakes up with a raging headache and a horrifyingly clear memory of the night before. 

Jon groans and rolls over, glancing at the clock. 11:02. He bolts upright. He’s late to work. Elias is going to have his hide for this, he thinks as he jumps out of bed and begins to dress, head pounding. 

He makes it all the way to the door before remembering that today is Saturday, his day off. 

It could be worthwhile to go in, organize a few things, as he does most weeks. It’s not as if he has anything better to do, and it would help him get ahead on the work. But he feels like he may throw up if he so much as steps out into the bright sunlight. 

He thinks back to the hazy memory of what Tim said last night, about taking a break. About being better. 

He crawls back into bed, surrounded by blankets and stuffed animals, and rests.


	3. Chapter 3

Jon isn't sure how it happened, but he and Sasha and Tim and Martin hang out outside work. Regularly. 

He's at Sasha's apartment now, standing on Sashas counter and attempting to avoid the chaos while she and Tim try to catch a spider on her floor. 

"They're good for the environment," Martin remarks, grabbing a cup to catch it in. 

Sasha stomps it. 

“Sasha! You just killed the environment!” 

Jon, privately relieved that the vile thing is gone, goes to his bag and puts it over his shoulder, reaching inside to hold Frog in an attempt to calm down a bit. 

He can admit that standing on the counter and screaming _may_ have been a slight overreaction, and the longer he thinks about it the more foolish he feels. 

“What’ve you got in your bag?” asks Sasha. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“You’ve had your hand in there for like five minutes.” 

“I’ll show you... but don’t laugh, or I’ll…” never spend time with them outside work again? That’s not true, he still would, because they’re his friends and it’s perfectly reasonable to laugh at something like this, and he likes them too much to stop. It can’t hurt to show them. They wouldn’t be mean about it if he asked them not to. “I'll be very upset,” he finishes lamely. 

“Okay.” 

“Here. This is Frog.” He holds her up. 

“Very cool, bossman.” 

“Oh my god, this is perfect. Hold on a second.” Sasha runs back into her bedroom and emerges holding a plush turtle. “This is Timothy Junior.” 

“I picked the name,” says Tim proudly. 

“He’s perfect,” Jon whispers. “May I pet him?” 

“Of course.” She hands him over and Jon hesitates before snuggling Timothy Junior to his chest. 

“Well, Marto, I guess we have to be each others stuffed animals,” sighs Tim, throwing himself into Martins arms. Martin carries him to the couch. 

“Are we having a cuddle?” Sasha says brightly, like it’s something they do all the time. Maybe they do, when Jon’s not there. He looks away, pretending he doesn't notice Sasha stepping over to join them. Jon checks his watch- it’s only six, but he had better take his leave, it wouldn't be professional to stay when they’re doing 'close friends only' activities. He is still their boss, even if it's mostly nominal. It is important to maintain distance and dignity. 

“Jon, you coming?” 

“Yes,” he says immediately. Martin pats the spot next to him and he scrambles over himself to sit there. 

Tim turns on the television.“What are we watching? And before you ask, Sasha, we are not watching Scooby Doo on Zombie Island again. The dialogue is, like, branded into my brain.” 

“But that’s my favorite Velma! We can’t watch the ones with lesser Velmas!” 

“Are you aware that there are movies _besides_ Scooby Doo?” 

“There’s a new documentary about animals,” says Jon, hoping Martin can’t feel his heart beating like a hammer. He’s quite warm, squished between them on the couch. Timothy Junior and Frog sit in his lap, staring in silent judgement. 

Sasha hands him the remote to pull it up. 

He squirms, hands twitching. The ants. He knows about the ants, he had read about them somewhere, he could talk about them for ages, but now isn’t the time. He catches himself bouncing his leg and holds it still. 

“These are those ants you were talking about the other day, aren't they?” Martin nudges his shoulder. 

“Yes,” he says, physically stopping himself from saying any more. 

“So how do they _build_ those anyway? The show didn’t explain it.” 

“Well, you see-" 

He’s talking over the documentary, but no one seems to mind. They listen intently as he describes the daily lives of ants, and their reproductive habits. All the while he's got pleasant pressure on both sides as he is effectively _cuddled,_ and he's strangely thrilled by it. 

They watch Scooby Doo on Zombie Island after that. Sasha mouths all the lines. Tim, too, if Jon looks closely. And then it's nearly ten and no one wants to go home, and Sasha casually invites them all to stay and have a slumber party as if they're in primary school. Ridiculous really. Of course, he agrees eagerly, and they all find themselves on the same mattress, sleeping on blue sheets. Sasha has a _lot_ of pillows, Jon notes, impressed, as he settles in. 

“Aw, she’s got a lilypad,” coos Martin. Jon glances over to where Frog sits on a soft green pillow, and she does indeed look like she’s on a huge, puffy lilypad. 

“I love frogs on lilypads. You see it and think, yeah, that’s where it’s supposed to be, that’s where it belongs. Know what I mean?" Sasha sets Timothy Jr. beside Frog. Privately, Jon thinks of the two stuffed animals as friends, a sentiment he would never voice aloud. 

“Frog off the lilypad, what crimes will she commit,” mumbles Tim, half asleep. 

Jon isn't sure if that's rhetorical. "Goodnight," he says. 

"'Night." 

\- 

He wakes in the night to find he has migrated fully onto Martins stomach in his sleep. Sasha is draped across his legs. A running tap sounds from the other room; Tim must have gotten up to get water. 

Listening to the steady rise and fall of Martins chest, he feels a bit like a frog on a lilypad, himself.


	4. Chapter 4

"-such a weirdo. Seriously. And he hides in his office _all day_." 

Jon doesnt mean to eavesdrop. He's only walking by on his way to his office, but his ears perk up at the word 'weirdo,' because generally speaking, when people use that word, it is him being discussed. 

But why would Tim be calling him a weirdo? They're friends. And… he doesnt stay in his office _all_ day, not anymore. 

Tim laughs from the other side of the door. "I don't even mind the weirdo-ness, I'm pissed that he keeps piling work on! " 

Someone snorts. Sasha. "I've been working on this stack for days now. And I know _some_ of us are handling it better than... others." 

She says it pointedly, like she has someone specific in mind. Jon frowns. Is someone having a hard time with the workload? He's tried to take the majority himself, but there's enough that they still have a fair amount of work ahead of them. Who is having trouble? Martin, probably. He makes a mental note to check on him later. 

Tim sighs. "Yeah, I don't know what to do, I mean we’ve tried a hundred ways to try and get him to relax!" 

Yes, that definitely sounds like Martin. Jon sneezes and their heads swivel in unison. 

"Jon, er, hi," says Sasha, looking flustered. 

Tim nods casually at him, as if he hasn't just been caught talking about his boss behind his back. Good, he thinks Jon didn't hear; that’ll save them all an awkward conversation. 

"Hello," he clips, fighting the childish urge to run off. "Excuse me, I need to…" he ducks into his office and locks the door. 

His head is spinning with this newfound knowledge. He's giving them too much work? They think he's _weird?_ And Tim didn't say it in the fond way Georgie always does, no, he said it with real vitriol in his voice, like...like the children in primary school did when he talked too much, or... 

When had they started thinking that? Was it the stuffed animal? or when he had brought up the emulsifiers? Lord, that was ages ago, before they'd even been friends. Are they friends now? Maybe they had always secretly thought he was off-putting, he hadn't exactly been friendly to them back then, too focused on being good at his job so no one would suspect that he was unqualified. But why would they invite him out if they hate him? To convince him to reduce their workload? No, they hadn't ever mentioned that, and they wouldn't use someone that way. They're good people. 

His stomach drops. Of course. Pity. That explains a lot, actually, like why they invited him along to what was clearly a friends-only outing right after Martin had seen his stuffed animal. 

And it explains how awkward Martin had been around him recently- Martin is the worst actor of the three of them. He was likely the one who talked them into it in the first place, he's got a kind heart and he's always trying to look out for other people. 

Well, it's not as if Jon hadn't suspected it a bit from the start. 

But attending outings is good for workplace morale, and spending time with his assistants does make them all work together more efficiently, he tells himself. If he stops going out with them in light of this new knowledge, it won't actually _solve_ anything, they'll still think what they think. So this doesn't change anything at all. He'll keep up the friendship for the sake of their professional relationships, and absolutely no other reason. He will keep it as professional as possible from now on.


End file.
